


Give and Take

by TaergaLive



Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [3]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive
Summary: "Astarion’s smile turns dangerous. He takes a step forward, closing the gap between them, his voice low. 'What’s my silence worth to you?'"Everyone's favorite vampire manages to strike a conversation with Sephrin. Somehow.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061618
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Give and Take

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at endings. Sorry.   
> I'm going to ride this writing bug until I crash and burn. Until then, please enjoy these little stories I keep writing.   
> Also, can you tell I love slowburns? Because I love slowburns.

A mesh of blue and purple greets in the rippling reflection. Sephrin frowns, water dripping from her face, as she tugs at her collar, examining the mark. 

The morning was already turning disastrous, at least in her opinion. Once again, the group was preparing for the day, getting ready to kill a goblin or whatever else got in their way. A discussion started between her brother and Lae’zel, and it was unfortunately about Sephrin. Lae’zel was suggesting that they give one of the bows to Sephrin and actually have the girl use it. According to the Githyanki, it would be a waste of good aiming otherwise, plus Sephrin needed to start “pulling her own weight.” 

Glynren was trying to be diplomatic, which translates to trying to tell Lae’zel it wasn’t a good idea while also not pissing the woman off. He used all the usual excuses: she’s not a fighter, she wouldn’t harm a fly, et cetera. Sephrin couldn’t bear to hear them talk about her, so she made her way through the forest to the little nearby creek to wash her face and prepare herself in peace. 

Normally, she tries to ignore her reflection; otherwise, she starts focusing on every little detail and flaw. The redness of her cheeks, the dark purple under her eyes, the split ends and flyaways of her brown hair. This time, however, the bruise on her neck made it impossible to ignore. The way the colors swirled looked like the night sky. 

“Seems I did quite the number on that pretty little neck of yours.” She yelps, losing her balance and almost falling into the creek. Luckily, she dug her hands into the silt, only getting her sleeves on her forearms completely soaked through. Though she saw nothing in the water to warn her, she could feel him standing just behind her, mere inches away. She knew vampires didn’t have a reflection, but to actually witness it, or rather  _ not _ witness it, was unnerving. 

“Though I can hardly take all the blame,” Astarion continues. “Lack of nutrients hinders the healing process. Or so I’ve heard.” 

There’s a pause. He’s waiting for her to respond. That is how conversations work, after all. But she bites down on her tongue, staring at her reflection. She doesn’t want to respond. She wants him to go away. Normally, when she ignores someone, when she stays quiet, they leave her alone. But sometimes, sometimes it just makes the person pester her more, to get under her skin, to break her. It seems Astarion is the latter. 

She feels a tap on the top of her head, making her flinch. “Are you in there, darling,” he prods, “Or did you faint?”

“What do you mean?” Sephrin murmurs. There’s no point in ignoring him. Astarion is stubborn. He wants something from her, and she has a feeling he’s not going to stop until he gets it. 

He leans over. “I noticed you were feeding the local wildlife last night. Not really a good idea when you’re trying not to get mauled by some vicious predator.” 

The fish. He had found the bits of fish she had tossed aside from last night’s dinner. But he had no proof it was hers. So, she plays dumb. “I don’t know what-”

“The night I left that mark,” he interrupts. “The night you...let me drink your blood, you said you trusted me.” He lets the comment linger in the air. His tone was matter-of-fact and yet insinuative. If she could see his face, maybe she would notice a calculating smile. But she still stares into the water. 

She did let him drink from her. And she did say she trusted him. So she nods, agreeing with his statement. But still, she does not speak. 

He straightens up with a sigh. “Not eating certainly isn’t going to help any of us, you know. Starvation and blood loss aren’t a good combination.”

Ah. That was it. He was worried he was going to lose his meal ticket. Of course. There’s a twinge of dejection that runs through her, but it helps her finally push herself up from the water. She shakes the water off her hands, not in Astarion’s direction but a droplet or two manages to hit him. Her lips are pursed and her brows furrowed. Enough time was wasted at this creek. She ought to return to camp before Lae’zel complains about her more. 

“You’re really going to ignore me?” Astarion scoffs. He places a hand dramatically on his chest. “Here I am,  _ concerned  _ about your wellbeing, and you’re spurning me.” 

Sephrin skirts around him, starting for the camp. “You’re concerned about your next meal,” she mutters. 

It’s not hard for Astarion to not only catch up but to cut her off. “Darling, you  _ wound  _ me. That’s not what this is about at all. I mean,” he fiddles with a strand of hair near his neck. “I would certainly appreciate it if you were to...let me feed from you again when the time comes. After all, you were the first person I fed from since...well, I’m not sure how long. Cazador never-” He stops, his mouth hanging open. But he quickly clears his throat. “Well, that’s not important.” 

Sephrin recognizes the expression. She’s made it many times herself. That sheer panic when she’s said more than she meant to. She presses her lips together. “Is that your...sire?” 

Astarion stiffens, though he cocks a brow. “That’s not quite the term I’d use for him. I…” he tilts his head. “How much do you know about vampires?” 

She nibbles on the inside of her cheek, looking off to the side. For a moment, she debates ignoring the question and walking away. Instead, she shrugs. “I...they need to, to drink blood, of course. And they can’t survive in the sun. A vampire can, can turn a person by biting them. But that person will only be a spawn of that, of that vampire until they...feed from the one who…”

He looks thoughtful before he gestures to himself. “Yours truly is but a mere vampire spawn. If I drink from a  _ true _ vampire, I would then be a full-blooded vampire.” 

Pausing, he sighs, glancing at the mark on her neck. “The one who turned me was a vampire named Cazador. My... _ master.”  _ The word drips with venom as he sneers, but quickly he returns to a more playful tone. “My  _ old _ master, anyway. Before the mind flayers took me away. He would have me go out into Baldur’s Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a  _ fun _ little ritual of his. I’d bring them back, and he’d ask me if I wanted to dine with him. Of course, if I said no, he’d have me flayed. But if I said yes? He’d serve me a dead, putrid rat. Hard to say which was worse.” 

Just like the night he bit her, she grows quiet. “I see.” 

“So,” he gestures to her. “I’ve told you something about myself. How about you...indulge me about yourself?” 

An exchange. Give and take. He wants to know about her eating habits? Fine. Anything to end this interrogation. “I’m not starving myself if that’s what you’re thinking. I do eat...occasionally. But eating in front of others makes me uncomfortable. A habit I picked up from home.”

He smirks, almost triumphantly. “Because of your half-sisters,” he guesses. Sephrin starts to shake her head, but Astarion pushes forward. “I don’t blame you, really. If they’re anything like your brother, they’re tall and beautiful. And slender.” 

Her face heats up. Sephrin was always a petite girl. Thin. Delicate. But thanks to her human blood, she was short compared to her siblings. They were tall and lean, with torsos that highlighted every sensual curve. She, on the other hand, had a short figure that bunched up at the slightest hint of weight gain. 

Sephrin shifts on her feet. “Any time my sisters visited, they ate very little. Even Glynren survives on small portions. Though they never said anything about it, I always felt awkward eating more than they would, so I…” 

“Starved yourself,” Astarion finishes for her. 

She furrows her brows. “No, I di-”

“As someone who lived off of rat blood, let me assure you that one can consume and still starve oneself at the same time.” 

A defeated sigh. Sephrin crosses her arms, eyes cast down. “Why...why are we...what is this? An intervention? A means to an end?”

“My dear girl,” he makes a show of covering his mouth as if shocked. “Is that what you think of me? After I’ve practically poured my heart out and told you my secrets?” 

“It’s not likely you would care,” she counters, getting worked up. “Everything you do has a purpose to it, and that purpose is to benefit you. You didn’t want to help the Tieflings when we first met them. In fact, you still argue about it each day we try. You have no sympathy toward any other people we meet under the mind flayer’s control. You have no problem striking down anything that gets in our way, even if they don’t deserve it. So why would I think for a moment that you actually care about my wellbeing? About my health? Why would I think any of you would ever think about someone other than yourselves? The lot of you, all of you, secretive, conniving, egotistical, selfish, ruthless…” 

Between the two of them, Sephrin looks the most shocked by her words. She covers her mouth, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Astarion, meanwhile, breaks out into a toothy, amused smile. “No, no, please,  _ do  _ go on.” She shakes her head and turns away. His smile turns mischievous. “And here all this time I took you for one of those naive, sees-the-good-in-everyone doormats. I am pleasantly surprised, and it’s not easy to surprise me.” 

Again, Sephrin tries to walk away, this time back to the creek. Anywhere to put some distance between herself and what just happened. But she suddenly stops in her tracks and whips back to face him. “Don’t, don’t tell, don’t tell them what I said. Please.” 

Astarion’s smile turns dangerous. He takes a step forward, closing the gap between them, his voice low. “What’s my silence worth to you?”

Internally, she curses. How did this happen? How did she let him get leverage over her? Whatever he wanted, it couldn’t be worth letting the others know how she felt. But curiosity makes her ask, “What do you want?” 

“It’s simple, darling,” he chuckles, leaning closer. “Eat.” 

“...what?”

Astarion turns away, making a show of shrugging. “You heard me. As I said before, starvation and blood loss are a terrible combination. Having a...reliable source of blood would work wonders for me. I wouldn’t have to worry about hunting for vermin or relying on feeble bandits. The transaction is mutually beneficial, I assure you. I’ll even go as far as to offer my protection.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Protection?”

“You said it yourself, darling. The lot of us: secretive, conniving...I could make sure that, if anything were to happen amongst the party…” he lets the words hang in the air, for her to fill in the blank herself. 

Why? She wants to ask why. Beyond the blood, there had to be a reason. But that’s not the question that comes out of her mouth. “Do you even know my name?” 

“Sephrin,” he replies without missing a beat. “A wonderfully simple name for such a complex creature such as yourself.” 

She can’t help but scoff at that. Just like her body, she can’t help but compare her name to her sisters’. Such beautiful, elegant names, feminine, enticing. But Sephrin? Masculin, sharp, easily forgotten. Still, she doesn’t comment on it. Her head is swimming, her chest tight. 

“Fine,” she sighs. 

Giving her one of his posh smiles, he nods. “Excellent. Now,” with a flourish, he gestures towards the camp. “We should probably return to the others before your brother accuses me of doing _depraved_ things to you.” 

Of course he had to say something like that. Her face heats up as she trudges past him, hugging herself tightly. She feels like she just sold her soul to a demon. 

“This was fun,” he adds as he follows her closely. “You should really use that mouth of yours more often. To talk, I mean. Unless there are other things you’d like to do with it.” 

Brain worm, take her now. She picks up her pace, and Astarion can’t help but laugh. He still has his amused smile as they enter the camp. 

“Oh my,” Shadowheart derides. “And what were you two off doing for so long?” 

**_NOPE_ ** . She wasn’t dealing with this again. Sephrin turns right back around and tries to leave, but Astarion catches her with one arm and spins her back around. “Reaching an understanding, dear Shadowheart. Our lovely Sephrin here has decided to agree with Lae’zel and take up the bow.” 

“I did  _ what? _ ” she hisses so only he could hear her. He simply nudges her towards the others. 

Glynren stares at Astarion coldly. He doesn’t believe the vampire for a second. His eyes snap to his sister. “Is that true?” 

What was she going to do, tell her brother the real nature of their conversation? Once again, she realized, Astarion had her trapped. Why? Why was he doing this to her? Was it because he found her weak, easy to manipulate? 

Sephrin looks away. “Y-Yes,” she sighs. 

“Then let us waste no more time,” Lae’zel interjects, striding over to the girl and shoving a bow and quiver in her arms. “We kill the goblin leader today.”

“Hopefully,” Gale sighs. “If not, I’d say we start looking for a new plan.”

As they started to move out, Sephrin prayed this plan would work. She prayed they could move on and find the solution to their shared problem. Otherwise, she would have to deal with her newfound personal one. As she trudged behind her brother, she couldn’t help but feel Astarion’s eyes boring into the back of her skull. 

He promised to protect her, but who was going to protect her from _him_? 


End file.
